


Rewrite Our History

by OperaGoose



Series: Rewrite Our History [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: All pairings are implied - Freeform, Angst, Bargaining, Fix-It, Gen, Pilgrimage, Unhappy Ending, well kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-15
Updated: 2017-09-15
Packaged: 2018-12-30 04:00:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12100263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OperaGoose/pseuds/OperaGoose
Summary: Prompto will do anything to make sure Noctis lives.Anything.





	Rewrite Our History

**Author's Note:**

> This was typed on my phone so there's probably typos and mispellings out the wazoo. I might write a sequel?

Prompto hadn't known. He found out later - well, Ignis had confessed. Noct hadn't wanted him to know. As Prompto ferried them back to Lestallum in a car Cindy had sourced for them. Gladio asleep in the back seat, Ignis in the passenger seat beside him. 

However long Noct had inside the crystal, gathering the powers of the kings behind him, there would be only fleeting moments until Noct fulfilled his destiny. Until he _died_ to _save the world_. 

Noct hadn't wanted him to know. Because they knew each other, loved each other enough to know that Prompto wouldn't rest until he found another solution. 

If Noct thought he was going to accept it now that he was gone, already accepting his destiny, then he was an idiot. 

He left Ignis and Gladio in Lestallum, and then he started his pilgrimage. 

He starts with Shiva. He assumes her time as Gentiana will make her sympathetic. But she is cold as ice, and he shivers for months in Ghorovus Rift to plead for a pact he has no right to. It's only when he names Lunafreya that she cracks - like a glacier, parting jagged ice to reveal something crystalline and beautiful underneath. She grants him favour, though he has no claim to it - and promises she will agree, as long as he saves Lunafreya as well as the King of Light. 

... 

He helps the last remaining refugees flee for Altissia, and kneels before the water to plea for the Leviathan. She makes him wait for two years, and when she finally appears it is to demand his silence. His prayers disturb her rest. She is the ocean, with all its rage and unstoppable fury. 

So, attempting to out-stubborn an actual god was his stupidest idea ever. She nearly drowns him countless times over the next month. But she never actually does. 

It's then that he realises something he should have remembered before. The ocean is the cradle of all life. 

He stops his endless litany of prayers and meets the tired, serpentine eyes. She seems surprised, and doesn't taunt him for his failure. 

“Lunafreya died here,” he says, his voice hoarse from overuse. 

The Leviathan writhed with anger. The crumbling city shook loose a few more buildings. “The Accursed!” Is all he can understand. Nobody but the oracles and the lucii kings are meant to understand the gods. 

“I have sworn to Shiva I will return the Oracle,” he explained. 

The great sea serpent stops then, staring down at him. Listening, perhaps. 

“If I succeed - if…” He swallows. _Cradle of life_ , he tells himself. “If I change things, life will be saved, thousands of lives, people who will create new life.” 

She snorts, as if this means little to her. But she leans down and buffets him with briny wind. When it stops, he can understand the unearthly rumble as words. “You have knelt here for two of your human years, to plead for the life or your king - the king who is destined to perish.” 

“I have. Lowly and unworthy as I am - to face the gods, that hands like mine have slaughtered, to beg for the life of one who only wants to save his people.” 

A strange hissing laugh escaped her. “And _how_ will you manage that?” 

He faltered. “I don't know…” 

She laughed again. “You will need Ramuh’s wisdom, and the Archaeon’s strength to carry it out. If your pleas reach Ifrit, he will give you his fire for a hefty price. But Bahamut?” She just laughed in answer to her own question. “You have my blessing. Now leave this place and cease disturbing my slumber.” 

He stood on numb legs as she began to sink back below the waves. “But what do you want in return?” 

“Life.” 

… 

He helps the rest of the Altissian refugees sail across to Galdin Quay, then on to Lestallum. It's there he sees Ignis again and - once the former advisor notified him - Gladio too. Gladio shouts at him, since he can _see_ how worn and thin and sickly Prompto’s become. 

Ignis doesn't shout. Doesn't threaten, or demand he stay with them. “They speak of you. First the Gralean refugees and now Altissian,” he says, very calm. “They've spoken of you. Of your…” he pauses, “ _veneration_.” 

He just cringes. “I can't give in,” he says stubbornly. “I can't just _accept_ it.” 

“And you find the best way to do this is by flinging yourself upon the Astral’s mercy?” 

“Yes.” He raises his chin stubbornly; even though Iggy can't see it. “I'm going to keep on keeping on. The only way I know how.” 

Ignis gave a low, displeased hum. He was silent for a long moment. And then, “do you remember how to get to Fociaugh Hollow?” 

… 

The Archaean had a trial of strength, to no surprise. When he came out of it, broken and bruised, he had the Titan’s blessing. 

Gladio carried him back to Lestallum, ranting all the way. But the deep, grumbling voice was still in his ear. 

The Archaean had demanded what he had already promised. Fitting that the god who had stood steadfast for a thousand years to hold up a meteor would expect him to stand too. _Ever at your side_. 

Were all the gods’ demands to give their blessing going to be something he would be glad to give? 

… 

Legend has it that the Astrals laid Ifrit’s starscourge ravaged body stop the Rock of Ravatough. Like the Archaean, the body was no longer there. But after how many endless nights, sweating and delirious - the horned god appeared to him like a dream. 

He was mocking at first, but the longer Prompto’s prayers went on, he softened. 

The god calmed down, the blazing inferno becoming a comforting warmth, almost like the long lost sun. “I was beloved once,” he told Prompto, his voice low and wistful. “I brought warmth to humankind, light into their lives. I loved them and they loved me. It was a good time. The best time.” 

Prompto looked up at him. “There's no light now. Not even the sun.” He hugged his knees. 

“The King of Light is meant to bring light back to the world,” the infernal god replied. “It is destined.” 

“But why does Noctis have to _die_?” 

“A life must be paid. All things must be balanced.” 

Prompto perked up. “A life? So it could be someone else’s?” 

“That I cannot say. The decision lies with Bahamut.” 

He straightens his shoulders. “If gods willing, I will change things. I will save Noct. I will never give up.” 

“No, you shall not.” The Infernal leaned down. “But before I give you my terms and my blessing, I need to tell you about the first anointed King of Light.” 

... 

Ramuh helps him take all the pieces and thread them together, weave together a world where things have changed just enough to remain the same. 

“We have made the design,” he tells Prompto, looking like an old and wizened man. “But, if Bahamut grants you his blessing, you must be the one to make it so.” 

“Will he?” Prompto asked uncertainly, hands clenched in the worn out fabric of his pants. It has been almost ten years since Noct had left, since Prompto had started his pilgrimage. 

“That I cannot tell you.” Ramuh looks at him for a length of time Prompto can't begin to measure. “If he does, then the price will be high. You have to be sure you will pay for it, hold steadfast.” 

He nodded. No, there was no way he would come this far and baulk at the final price. Not if it let Noct live, not if it gave Luna back her life, not if he could undo Iggy’s blindness. “Your blessing?” 

“You have it.” 

He swallowed. “Your terms?” 

Ramuh watches him, not unkind. But with the wisdom of ages behind his eyes. “You will remember it all. As it is destined to be now.” 

He doesn't want to. He wants to forget, like everyone else will - but he doubts he will live to see it. Bahamut will demand a price, and Prompto is sure it will be his death. 

He bows his head, and murmurs his prayers and his thanks. 

… 

He is journeying back when Pryna appears like a ghost in the night. He's startled, staring at her in hope and wonder. She jumps into the cab of his truck, with no need for an invitation, and hands him a scrap of paper from her teeth. Bidding him to come. 

One hand buried in her fur, he drives to Hammerhead at long last. 

Umbra had always ferried the notebook back and forth between Noct and Lunafreya. Pryna was sometimes sent to Prompto - the link in Prompto and the Oracle’s sporadic communications. She worried for Noct, and Prompto always swore to protect him. 

“I'm still keeping my word,” he told Pryna, as if she could still carry the words for the dead princess to hear. His eyes stung for a moment and he swiped them harshly away, focusing on the drive. 

Ignis and Gladio are already there. Iggy doesn't need help any more, but Gladio’s strong hand stays on his lower back as he helps him out of the car. In the absence of Noct and Prompto, they'd grown closer it seemed. 

Pryna slips away into the night before the fence closed. They don't have to wait long until Noct appears. He's aged, Prompto doesn't know why that cuts him so deep - older, with unruly hair and a scraggly sort of beard Prompto wants to shave and kiss. Not in that order. 

In a quiet moment, as they drive - Gladio and Iggy occupied in the back seat, Noct tugs the little beard he has clinging to his chin like moss on a rock. “You can grow facial hair after all,” he teases. 

… 

Noctis has made his peace and Prompto can't, won't. But he doesn't tell Noct what he's spent his years in the dark doing. If Bahamut doesn't listen, then it was all for nothing. 

Dressed in the Kingsglaive uniforms, they re-enter the city that had been their home. They fight demons to reach the citadel, and Prompto helps Noct slay the star-scourged corpse of Ifrit, kept alive by darkness. As the form expires, banished by Shiva’s kiss, something in Prompto’s chest eases. 

If all else fails, he has given Ifrit what he demanded anyway. 

Noct tries to command him to stay behind, but once he's disappeared inside, Prompto gives Iggy and Gladio a silent apology and pursues. He stops in what has to be a temple. Stained glass windows of the Six loom high above, staring down at him in judgement. 

He sinks onto his hands and knees in front of the draconic form of Bahamut’s likeness. The position is familiar, and it's easy to fall into the prayers. The citadel rumbles, a fight going on elsewhere - and he knows he is being ignored. 

Shakily, he gets onto his feet and stared up at the glass window. Then a voice, cold as ice, large as the sea, strong as rock, harsh as fire and booming like thunder erupts from his mouth: “ **Bahamut**!” 

The window shatters, and through the darkness he can see a giant eye. 

“ **I come with the blessing of the five astrals, to command you free King Noctis from death.** ” The words cannot be his own. He would never command anything, let alone a god. 

The godlike rumble makes his very bones tremble where he stands. “The blood price must be paid to rid your star of the scourge.” 

“ **The blood price will be paid** ,” he insists. “ **King Noctis will live.** ” 

“Destiny is not bent on the whims of one mortal.” 

“ **The Destiny will be fulfilled, but King Noctis will live. You can do this** .” 

“It is in my power.” The temple seems to disappear as Bahamut leans down to stare at him. 

He trembles, but his voice is still strong. Blessed by the five astrals he has given devotion. He feels them standing at his back. “ **I will pay the price of changing this course of events**.” 

Bahamut rumbles. “What will you pay, Prompto Argentum? You come here prepared to give your life, but it is not what you value most.” 

No, he supposes not. What he values… what he could never surrender is Noct’s happiness. But that's not _his_ price to pay. What does he value, in and of himself. “My heart.” His voice is soft, weak and human again. His heart, what makes him human and not a machine. The feelings he shares with Gladio and Iggy - The love he has for Noct and Luna. 

His wait for Bahamut’s answer is cut short with a slice of pure agony. Something cuts through his chest, and he can see the ghostly blue light of the power of kings. Then eleven more times as each weapon plunges through his chest. 

He is pinned to the temple floor, writhing and screaming. Is this the blood price Noct is paying as he pleads with the foremost god? 

And then King Regis appears, almost real as he stands over Prompto’s body. They only saw each other that one time, as the king sent them off on this long journey. But the former king looks sad, even as he summons his weapon and plunges it into Prompto’s heart. 

The room is empty, the shards of Bahamut’s window surrounding him as he stared up at the glass dome in the ceiling. He can feel his life slipping away moment by moment. 

Something bright catches his eye, and when he turns his head, he sees Pryna. She crosses to him and rests her forehead against his. 

But it's Lunafreya’s voice he hears, whispering in his mind as he falls. 

“Bahamut grants you his blessing.” 

… 

He floats in some netherworld, suspended between life and death. Ardyn is there, giving him a mocking smile. “You are not who I expected to see here.” 

Prompto breathes, feels life and light coursing through his veins. It burns. “It's over, Ardyn.” 

Fear overcomes the chancellor - no, the King’s expression. But Prompto turns his back on him and walks away, into the past, into the fabric of their world and unravels it to begin his new workings. 

The first anointed King of Light, Ardyn Lucis Caelum, never takes in his kingdom’s starscourge. The crystal does not reject him, and with the Astrals at his side he banishes the scourge that would have consumed him. 

The Kings of Lucis reign long and prosperously. Without the power of the crystal, but in their own right. 

King Regis Lucis Caelum, CXIII, has a son named Noct. Noct is guarded by his loyal shield, Gladiolus Amacita, and guided by his advisor Ignis Stupido Scientia. 

When he is grown, he is betrothed to Lady Lunafreya, princess of Tenebrae, to secure a peace treaty between the empire and the kingdom of Lucis. Emperor Iedolas Aldercapt declares their children will be his heirs, and in his next lifetime the glorious kingdom of Solheim will be returned. 

Along with the marriage, the empire sends other gifts of goodwill. Amongst them, comes a new guard sworn to protect the King and Queen. 

There was no starscourge to create a magitek army, but Verstael Besithia still adores his science. He perfects cloning, and one such experiment of his own flesh and blood he grants to become the guardian of the Lucii royals. 

Prompto Besithia stands, forever, at the King’s Side. Sworn by duty, and a promise to the Archaeon. 

But Bahamut had demanded the highest price with his blessing, and Prompto has no heart to keep his promise to a once-friend with. A solitary, stony sentinel, he stands beside a king he does not know or care for as he marries a woman, who had once been an Oracle he could have come to love. But he remembers and the Astrals rest. 


End file.
